Opal Squadron
by thalgrond
Summary: Several years before the Battle of Yavin, a small group of rebels escape an Imperial prison facility. Now they, with only a single freighter and a handful of TIE fighters, must survive on their own, fleeing across Imperial space, fighting off pirates and Imperial patrols, and trying to reunite with the rebel fleet. (OCs only. No canon characters except maybe a cameo or two. WIP.)
1. Chapter 1

"Alright. Open it up."

The tall Imperial officer stood stock still as one of his troopers carried out the order, stepping forward and pressing the button beside the cell door, then quickly stepping back to get in line with his comrades. The row of six soldiers- four in the white armour of stormtroopers, two in black uniforms- all stood with that same disciplined, straight-backed stance the officer was showing. Behind their stoic faces, though, each of them wanted desperately to be elsewhere.

The heavy cell door slid open, revealing... darkness. The prisoner must have disabled the light again. She always said it was the only way to amuse herself in there. The troopers waited. The officer stared into the shadows in the cell. Finally, just when it looked like he would have to send someone in to get the prisoner, she slowly emerged. The troopers were all secretly relieved that they wouldn't have to enter that room.

"Inu Bentarys?" the officer said. The questioning tone in his voice had been unintended, and the pause after the name was longer than he was trying to make it. Inu, like a predator sensing weakness, pounced immediately. "And who else would I be, commander? Is there someone else who has access to this cell? Besides, do you know someone else who looks anything like me?"

She had a point. Inu was six foot four with a slight hunch, hair that hung in a curtain of dreadlocks in front of her face and down her back, and a build that, had she been a bit hairier, might have let her pass as a small wookie. Indeed, she wasn't too far off the mark in that respect either, with four foot black dreadlocks messily piled into an approximation of a ponytail, meant to keep her hair out of her eyes, not to make her look better.

"It was not a question, miss Bentarys," snapped the officer. "I've been ordered to escort you to the warden, and before you get any ideas, yes, I am authorized to use any necessary force. The warden knows full well how dangerous you are, miss Bentarys. You've made quite a reputation-"

"Yes, fine," Inu interrupted, offering her crossed hands. "I've been wanting to have a chat with him." This was unusual. Bentarys did indeed have a reputation in the prison, and in the past she never cooperated this easily. She had been stunned more in her first ten days on Palir Station than most of the inmates managed in their entire sentences. Still, the troopers were going to take advantage of their good fortune. As the other four troopers kept their guns carefully trained on the huge woman, two of the stormtroopers stepped forward, cuffed her quickly and nervously, despite her apparent complacency, and then took up escort positions as the procession started off down the hallway. The troopers all kept at or beyond arm's reach, and shifted back to a defensive line as soon as they finished the short walk to the warden's office. "Step inside, miss Bentaris," said the officer crisply. "It's best not to keep the warden waiting." "Oh, believe me, I know." Inu looked down at the officer in amusement. "Oh, and by the way," she added, as the door opened into the office, "I'd appreciate it if you could fix the light in my cell. I know it's a hassle, but it is Imperial policy, isn't it?" She raised her cuffed hands, gave the officer a little finger wave, and walked through the mechanical door, which closed automatically behind her. "No hassle." muttered the officer once she was gone. "The first fifteen times, that is."

* * *

Inu had to duck to get through the door. Palir Station wasn't particularly spacious, and she was quite a large woman.

"Getting called up to the office, am I?" she said as the door closed behind her. "Reminds me of school. They always thought I was a troublemaker there, too." The warden, a thickset officer with grey hair, looked up from a screen on his desk. "They were almost certainly right. Search her." Inu stood still as a black-uniformed trooper stepped forward from his place by the door and waved a sensor in front of her, before giving her a quick pat-down. "What, do you thing I've smuggled something in? How would I have done that? I've been locked in my cell for the past twelve days, and there would have been no way to get something onto the station without you knowing anyway." She waited another couple of seconds, then the trooper stepped back, gave the warden a nod, and returned to his position against the wall. Looking around, Inu noted six troopers around the room. Hm. They were increasing security. Last time there had only been four.

"So why am I here?" she asked after another moment of standing quietly in front of the warden's desk. "You're being transferred," he replied simply. "Next time the freighter arrives, in another four days, you and five other inmates will be put aboard it and sent to another installation." "Why aren't the other five here, then?" "I'll be processing them seperately, as I don't want to put you in a room with potential allies. I decided it could result in some of my troopers getting injured, and no one wants that." "Except for me." She said it pleasantly, smiling down at the warden. It was like she had just said she enjoyed picnics, rather than telling him that she would like to maim his subordinates. Smiling just as mildly, he replied in kind. "Touché. But we can't always get everything we want, can we?" "So where am I being transferred to?"

The warden's smile suddenly became considerably more nasty. "Kessel."

Inu's throat tightened involuntarily. That was almost a death sentence! "I thought, warden," she said, carefully measuring her words, "That I was too dangerous to work in the spice mines." "Well, they changed their mind. They are in need of individuals of you physical strength. And I'm glad to have you off my hands. But believe me, miss Bentarys, they are much less accommodating there. I'd advise against breaking the lighting panels during your stay there." He smiled again, and made a dismissive gesture.

Inu suddenly felt anger boiling in her chest. But no. She pushed it down deep. She could get out of here without that, but if she let it take over, if she fought and they had to drag her back to her cell, they might find what she had inside. The maintenance people weren't a problem, as they would just focus on the light and not notice anything else, but if a trooper came in...

She inclined her head slightly to the warden, then turned and exited the office. She would get them back for this soon. Very soon.

* * *

 _The roar of his engines. The feeling of being pushed back into his seat by the acceleration. The shriek of his cannons. An alarm sounded, shrill and urgent, and he reacted, throwing his fighter into a roll. A flash of green, then another and- BLAM! An explosion from just behind him. A button press, and his ejector seat flung him out of the cockpit, just in time to see the fighter blown to shreds by anther green laser blast. Then silence. The TIE fighter fading into the distance, still chasing the rest of his squadron. A searing pain in his left leg, a piece of shrapnel embedded in his flesh, opening a hole in his suit. He cried out in pain, then faded to silence again. Silence, and the flashing red warning light in his helmet._ Suit breach, low oxygen. Suit breach, low oxygen. Suit breach, low oxygen...

Dakon woke up in a cold sweat and jolted upright. He hit his head on the bunk above his, but he didn't care. It was nothing to the agony in his leg. He stifled a curse, gritting his teeth against the pain, and waited for it to subside. It didn't.

Letting the curse out, he flipped the thin covers back, rolled up his pant leg and glared at the offending limb. It was bright red now, he noted. Well, at least it wasn't purple any more. Small comforts, but better than nothing. He rubbed his hand over the large, jagged, barely healed scar on his thigh and the pain started to decrease.

He heard a cough from above him, and looked up to see a woman's face peering at him from the top bunk. "Sorry," he grated out, still massaging his thigh and gritting his teeth. "Didn't mean to wake you." "No problem. That looks bad enough to warrant some leeway." She smiled good-naturedly and said "So, how'd you get that anyway? You were pretty quiet earlier when they put us in here." "Got it when a TIE shot my y-wing down." "Ooh! You're a pilot?" "Was one. Now I'm just a prisoner like the rest of us." "'Course you are. But let's keep our heads up, 'kay?" Dakon nodded absently, and the woman seemed pleased. "Great! Give me a sec. I'm coming down." Her face withdrew, and her legs swung over the edge of the bunk, shortly followed by the rest of her as she leapt to the floor of the cell. She was short and lithe, a gymnast's physique, with dark skin and a tangle of unkempt brown hair. "So! What's your name, pilot boy?" she asked, grinning at him and sitting down on the edge of his bunk. "Dakon. You?" "Eris. Nice to meet you, Dakon." They had a short handshake, then she kept talking, grinning all the time. "So, y-wings. They have two pilots, right?" "Yes." "Is your gunner okay?" "Yeah. He got stunned in the explosion, but made it out in one piece. Better than I did." He gestured at the scar, then started to roll his pant leg back down. "Well that's good. So I guess you got picked up by an Imperial ship once the fighting was done?" "Yes. They barely got to me in time. All the nerves in my leg got exposed to vacuum, and I was almost out of air." "Well, look on the bright side! You didn't die, and you still have the leg. I'd call that a silver lining, wouldn't you?" "I suppose..."

There was a moment of silence, and then Dakon asked "Sorry, what was your name again?" The woman giggled. Dakon didn't think it was that funny, but she seemed pretty energetic, so he could see how she might find it amusing. "Eris. Eris Vyladian. And you'd best get used to me. I'll be your cellmate for the next five days, until this ship gets to Kessel." "I'm not going to Kessel. They don't need physically disabled slaves in the spice mines." "Oh. Okay, good for you! Where are you getting off?"

He frowned, trying to remember. He thought it started with a 'p'... "Palir station" he said at last.


	2. Chapter 2

As Inu stepped back into her cell and the door closed and locked behind her, she noted that the lighting panel had been fixed in her absence. Damn, those Imperial electricians were quick! She felt a bit of respect for them, and thanked silently thanked them for their service. And for being so quick about it. If they were that fast, they probably hadn't searched the cell, or at least not thoroughly.

Well, time to get to work. She glanced at the security camera to make sure they hadn't adjusted it, then crossed the small room to her bunk, knelt down in what looked to the security camera like some sort of prayer and, with her body obscuring what her hands were doing, lifted the thin mattress slightly and reached under it. Her fingers closed on something small and metallic, and she smiled. She had known they wouldn't search there. She pulled the small bundle of wires out and let the mattress drop back into place. Then she palmed her little creation to hide it from the cameras and sat down on the bunk, slipping the little bundle of wires surreptitiously under the sheets. Tonight she would keep working on her little creation. How nice of the empire to keep providing electrical components for her. Oh. That reminded her. She needed a two centimetre piece of mark 3 copper wiring. She stood up, crossed to the lighting panel, and went to work.

* * *

Dakon took a big bite of one of the ration bars the Imperials had slipped through the door flap. "So, Eris," he said through the mouthful, "Why are they sending you to Kessel? You a rebel too?" "Nah, just a smuggler." She offered him the bottle of water that had come with the meal, and he took it gladly. "I did do some jobs for you guys, though," she continued, putting her own ration bar back down on the tray. "And apparently that's enough for the Imperials to call you a rebel. I'm fine with it, though. Rather be a rebel than just an ordinary criminal." He raised an eyebrow at her. "So why didn't you join the alliance? They protect our own people much better than we protect our suppliers." She shrugged. "I don't know. It was the captain's call, and I was just following him. He'd always kept us safe and one step ahead of the Imperials. Well. Until now, obviously."

Dakon put his own ration bar back on the tray as well. He wasn't that hungry, and the bar was mostly finished anyway. "How are you still so cheerful? That wasn't an insult or anything, I honestly want to know. I'm feeling pretty down on my life right now, and if you have something that can cheer me up..."

Eris blinked a few times at him, then shrugged again. "I grew up out on the rim, a little moon named Samanir. Out there, the longest life you can reasonably hope for is about twenty-five. Maybe thirty if you're lucky. Well, I'm already twenty-six. I'm doing about as well as I could have hoped for when I was a kid, and I'm still going. So that's it. I'm just happy to still be breathing." Dakon, not knowing how to respond, took another sip of the water, then put it on the tray with the mostly-eaten ration bars and their wrappers. "Eris, I-" "Don't worry about it. I got out of that place, and I've been loving my life ever since. I mean, exploring the galaxy, flying around with a smuggler crew? It was my dream! Even now, I'm still meeting interesting people." She grinned at Dakon, happy and energetic once more. "So don't feel sorry for me. I'm still doing better then I ever could have hoped."

* * *

"Hmm. How do I hide that I've taken this...?" mused Inu, staring at the wrenched open fuse box of the lighting panel. "I could... maybe roll that wire out to make it look longer? It would still be obvious if they weighed it, but I could make it look like I was just randomly smashing at it that way..."

Inu had been at this for the better part of three months, and in that time she had become adept at covering her tracks. She could completely remove a component, then rearrange the rest in just such a way that it looked like there was nothing missing. She stared at it for another few moments, then whispered "Yeess... That'll work." And with that, she reached in and gave the wire a quick yank.

It gave her a shock. That was to be expected. But she kept the point of contact small enough, and the duration short enough, that she was in no real danger. With a loud 'zap,' the light went out and the cell was dark except for the dim red glow of the security camera's ready light.

She then set about covering her tracks. It was dark, by this point she knew the fuse box well enough she could do it by feel. She got zapped another couple of times, but soon it was done: no one would know she had taken anything unless they looked _really_ close. Her work, for the moment, was done.

"Right." She walked to her bed, banging her knee against it in her haste, and slipped under the covers. Then she reached down under the thin blankets and took hold of the bundle of wires again. Now to add this new one. By feel. In the dark. It was going to be a long night. "Damn it," she said to the little metal object as she turned it over in her calloused hands, "You'd better work."


	3. Chapter 3

It was several hours of lying in complete darkness before someone came to fix Inu's light again. She had finished her night's work, keeping the little contraption out of sight of the camera (it had a night vision setting), and had stowed it under the mattress again long before they arrived. She was lying in bed half asleep when she heard the warning buzz that told her that someone was coming in, and that she should stay away from the door.

She turned over to face the door, eyes opening blearily, and stared into the darkness for a moment before the lock popped and the door slid open, admitting a man holding a tray. He placed it on the floor just inside the cell, then stepped back and reached for the 'close' button.

"Wait! My light has... " she started, but he pressed the button anyway and the door slid closed again, locking with a dull 'thud'.

"Ah, well. They'll fix it eventually. It's against their regulations not to." She got up, moved to the door, found the tray with her feet, and picked it up, muttering to herself all the while. "Breakfast is served, madam! For your enjoyment: the same exact type of ration bar as every other day since you got here. Have fun becoming malnourished!" Then she turned, walked back to the bunk, and sat down to eat her meal in the dark. "Hmm. I wonder what company makes these ration bars?" she mused out loud. "Whoever it is, I'd like to pay them a visit. They have a lot to answer for."

* * *

Yban was pushed hard from behind, and pitched forward through the cell door. He landed heavily, almost knocking the wind out of himself and hitting his forehead against the metal floor so hard his vision went dark for a moment. As he lifted his head, he heard the door close behind him. "Oh, come on!" he shouted after the troopers, through the closed door. "The least you can do is uncuff me!" As he struggled to his feet, pushing himself up as best he could with his hands bound in front of him, he heard a chuckle, and for the first time realized he wasn't alone in the cell. There was a blue-skinned alien sitting on the lower of the two bunks set into one of the walls, wit its four obsidian-black eyes locked on him. "My, aren't you the indignant one? You know they don't owe us anything, right?" "Sure, but we have... well, even prisoners have rights! And I'll be damned if they're just going to leave these cuffs on me for the whole damn trip to Kessel! It's three more days, they can't leave them on that long."

The creature's lips pulled back to form a sharp-toothed grin, and when it spoke again the teeth clicked together in a very... dangerous sounding way. "You are clearly a warrior. I am Kirkiv, and I am a warrior, too. We are not of the same clan. And our clans have most likely never fought." The creature sounded like it had just made a logical point, but Yban had heard only statements thus far. So he was highly surprised when this Kirkiv creature lunged across the room at him. He shouted in alarm, and toppled backwards, landing heavily for the second time in as many minutes. quick as a flash, the alien was on him. It was fairly small, but kneeling on him, putting its full weight on his chest, it was plenty large to keep him down, especially when both his hands were cuffed and pinned under the little creature. One blue-skinned hand pulled back, claws extending from each fingertip... and then Kirkiv stopped, starring down at the cuffs. "Vreetau!" he shouted angrily, and leapt backward off of Yban, moving just as fast as his earlier lunge.

The alien's weight on his chest, coupled with the fall, had actually been enough to knock the wind out of Yban this time, and for a few moments his head spun with the horse of his impact with the ground. So he just lay there for a long moment, trying to gasp for breath, and getting no results. Finally, when he was able to draw breath again and get up into a kneeling position, he looked around nervously for his cellmate.

The little creature was curled up on the top bunk, still staring at him with those four black eyes. "I am sorry. I attacked while you were cuffed and surprised. You were at a disadvantage. I have lost sight of my honour in this prison, and I ask you to-" "Why'd you do that?!" Yban panted. "I... you don't even know my name! Why would you-" "It is very unlikely for you to be a member of a clan I have already encountered. You are a warrior. I am a warrior. We must fight to prove the order of clan dominance." The creature sounded a little bit miserable about this. Yban could kind of see why. It probably had to fight just about everyone it met here. Non-warriors weren't usually sent to Kessel.

It took him another few minutes, but once Yban had recovered, he immediately forgave the little creature. After all, the attack was just an aspect of its culture. "My name's Yban, by the way." he said at length. "So, I guess it's normal for your species to fight when they meet a stranger?" "Only those from my homeworld, and only if both individuals are of Munak caste... Warriors," he clarified, seeing Yban's questioning look. "I apologize. I did not warn you of my traditions, or speak a formal challenge. This place is getting to me." When Yban assured the creature it was no problem and all was forgiven, it looked pleased. He thought. It was hard to tell with the strange facial expressions it used. Hmm. If it fought any warrior who belonged to a strange clan... "So, what does that mean for stormtroopers? Do you have to fight them every time you see one?" "No, they are all of the same genetic stock. They are of a single clan, and I have already fought many. The order of dominance is established." "Oh. Who won?" Kirkiv looked at him with what must have been exasperation. "Well, I'm sitting in a cell on an Imperial prison ship on the way to a life in the spice mines on Kessel. So what do you think? Who won?" "Ah. I see." The two of them sat in silence then, considering their misfortune. They sat there for a long, long time.


	4. Chapter 4

The little bundle of wires was a bomb.

It didn't use plasma or high explosives or shaped laser charges. No high-tech components had gone into making it, just some conductors and resistors arranged in a complicated pattern. The bomb relied on one simple fact:

Batteries store a lot of energy.

To be precise, it was meant to use the pair of batteries that sat deep within the lighting panel, ensuring that it always had a power source even if the ship lost power. She had discovered them the first time she had disassembled the fuse box, and had recognized them immediately. They were Umira corporation type 2 batteries, or, as she had been taught by her mother when she was young, "little cans with a lot of bang." Each one stored the equivalent of a few dozen blaster shots in electrical energy, and, as she had learned very early when working in her mother's machine shop, they were extremely easy to overload. "It's amazing these are still in production," her mother had always said whenever she had to work with a type 2. "The number of accidents involving these things..." then she would shake her head and 'tsk-tsk' quietly before getting back to work.

Oh, yes. Easy to overload indeed. And that was what this little bundle of wires was meant to do. If it worked right, it would release the battery's entire energy storage as an explosion after a five second delay.

If it worked right.

* * *

Dakon felt the floor under him shudder as the prison freighter switched control over to the tractor beams of the station. "Well. I guess this is my stop."

Eris looked over the edge of her bunk, and grinned down at him. "Good luck! Make new friends. Take good care of that leg. And don't come to Kessel just because of me. I know I'm charming, but it's just not worth it." He grinned in return. She had really made his stay on this freighter bearable, and he was going to miss her. But no. He felt no desire to follow her to Kessel.

* * *

 _"Docking procedure complete!"_ came the announcement over the tinny speakers. _"All prisoners disembarking at Palir station, step away from the doors and wait to be retrieved."_

Yban sighed and looked over at his cellmate. "Another day another station." The cuffs had been removed yesterday, and Yban had been expecting Kirkiv to attack him again as soon as that disadvantage was gone. To his surprise, though, she (he had recently learned that Kirkav was, in fact, female) had remained perfectly pleasant towards him. "Well," she replied, sitting on her bunk, "I don't think there's any reason to worry ourselves. It's not like either of us is getting off here. So, what was it you were saying yesterday about starfighter tactics?" "Right. So, the thing about directions in space is there isn't exactly a 'down'..."

* * *

Inu reached into the fuse box and, with one snatching motion, grabbed one of the batteries. On its way back out, her hand brushed against a wire and felt a shock, but she was beyond caring. She had to do this fast. The Imperials might be sending someone to collect her at any moment.

She reached back into the fuse box, tore out a handful of wires and waited for her eyes to get used to the dark again. Then she took the two strides to the bed, reached under the mattress and pulled out the bundle of wires. Then she tucked the battery and the wires into the pockets of her prison uniform, sat down on the bed, and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. The buzzer sounded and she rose from the bed, staring intently at the door. The lock popped, and she tensed. She was ready to spring...

* * *

Dakon marched down the hallways of the freighter with the other prisoners, about a dozen in all, escorted by about as many troopers. These prisoners were just a small portion of the inmates on the ship, but they were the only ones getting off here. Most of the rest were bound for Kessel.

The procession moved out of the freighter, into the open space of a station's docking bay. The prisoners were herded into a straight line, an officer walked by checking names off a list, and they were all sent off again, heading for a doorway that doubtless led into the rest of the installation. Then, just as they were about to reach the door: _"Attention, all personnel! A dangerous prisoner is loose! Return prisoners to their cells immediately and lock down the hangar and command areas!"_

* * *

Six troopers lay on the ground around her, two dead, three unconscious, one moaning in pain from several broken bones. And Inu had their blasters. Everything was going well so far.


	5. Chapter 5

Inu stood in the middle of the hallway, the blaster of a disarmed trooper in her hands, panting slightly with adrenaline. After a couple of seconds, though, she took a deep breath and looked around, taking stock of her situation. The hangar bay was down the hall to her left, she knew that much, and that was where she wanted to get to. There were new prisoners arriving today, which meant there would be a hyper-capable freighter, refitted to carry prisoners, sitting in the hangar bay and waiting for further instructions. Her main problem was going to be the blast doors that cut off the hangar from the rest of the facility. And the forty troopers no doubt bearing down on her position. And the fact that even if she got onto the freighter, there would be TIEs waiting for her just outside the hangar bay. But all that in good time. For now, she just had to get to the freighter.

Bending down, she quickly searched one of the dead troopers. "Come on, where is... ha!" Triumphantly, she held up the man's keycard. Heading to the nearest cell door, she pushed the card into its "unlock" slot...

Nothing. The Imperials had already locked the facility down. _Well,_ she thought as she tucked the card away in one of the pockets of her prison uniform, _it was worth a shot._ She set off down the hallway, but turned off into a side passage as soon as the opportunity presented itself. She knew that she wasn't going to get into the hangar through the blast doors. They were meant to withstand a sustained attack from a quad laser turret, and with her one little bomb, there was no way she would be able to get through it. So, that left her with few options.

She had recognized this problem when she started building the bomb, and had spent much of the last month trying to come up with a solution. Finally she had found one, and it was so simple it just had to work. So off she went now, knowing exactly where she was going. All she had to do was find the vac suit storage.

As she rounded a corner, a doorway a short distance down the hall opened and three black-uniformed troopers walked out. Immediately, their eyes fell on Inu, and they stopped in their tracks. Inu, on the other hand, didn't. Her mind didn't even register surprise. Instead, she brought her stolen blaster up and started shooting.

Inu's first two shots dropped the closest trooper. The second trooper at least started to raise his blaster before a shot hit him in the chest and he collapsed in pain. It was the third trooper who presented more of a challenge.

He brought his blaster up and fired a quick shot, the bolt flying past Inu on her left and scorching the wall of the corridor. Just as he was about to fire a second shot, this time pointing more directly at Inu's midriff, she fired a return blast. It missed him, ricocheting off the walls further down the corridor, but it was enough to distract him, making him dodge and letting Inu get inside striking range for her fists. Her left hand swung upward towards the man's solar plexus, aiming to knock the wind out of him. Amazingly, he managed to rotate his bod enough that the strike hit him instead on the side of his ribcage, but the crunching sound suggested to Inu that she had probably broken a rib or two with the strike, so it wasn't a total loss.

The man buckled with the pain of the strike, going to his knees. Still, he managed to hold onto his blaster, and he fired off one more wildly inaccurate shot from his kneeling position, before Inu kneed him hard in the throat and he went the rest of the way down, gagging for air.

Inu left him like that, taking off at a sprint towards the hangar. She had wasted precious seconds with that fight, and needed to make up for lost time. Coming to a T junction, she glanced both ways and skidded to a stop. She couldn't remember this place. Damn it! Why did spaceship designers insist on the same white and grey colour pallet for every corridor? And why all the twisting passages? She always got disoriented in places like this. And behind her, just around the corner she had just rounded, she could hear the sound of stormtrooper boots running. Lots of boots. Great. Just great.

Making a quick decision, she turned left and took off running again. She knew she could outrun the stormtroopers. She was very physically fit, and they were wearing heavy, cumbersome armour. If this wasn't the right way, maybe she could go back by a roundabout route? _Later, Inu. One thing at a time._

She dashed around another corner, looking for any sign she was going in the right direction. She found none. "Damnit!" she muttered, then skidded to a stop and listened, trying to figure out how long she had before someone showed up.

What she heard wasn't encouraging. But now that she was standing still, she thought she sort of recognized the hallway. Yes, had she turned the other way she would have wound up very near the hangar bay. And that meant she was close to the skin of the station. Now, when she had been paraded onto the station, where had she seen that airlock...?

She turned, frowning in concentration, and kept moving, more slowly now, checking every door she passed. Finally, just as the sound of marching boots was about to round the corner, she saw it: the little grey door that led into a locker for vac suits and space-sealed armour, and just beyond that, an airlock. She fumbled for the keycard she had stolen earlier, pressed it into the slot, and ducked inside, thankful that they didn't lock all the doors during a lockdown. So that their troopers could still deal with the threat effectively, they only closed the ones to the cells, the offices and the hangar.

Just as the first trooper rounded the corner into the hallway, shouting an indistinct warning at her, she closed the door, stepped back a few paces, and quickly blasted the opening mechanism. "Okay. That should give me a minute or two," she commented, turning to survey the room.

It was dark, but just waving the keycard in front of a light on the wall solved that problem, and she was met with the sight of shelves upon shelves of equipment. No weapons, though. The armoury was separate, and would be locked down by now. A shame that, but weapons weren't what she was after. She started to look through the vac suits for one big enough for her. After a few moments of frantically pawing through them, she fond the biggest one in the room. It looked like she might be able to squeeze into it. Barely.

 _Hm. Wait up a moment._ She picked up the blaster she had dropped while searching for the suit, aimed it upward, and fired two shots, destroying a pair of security cameras. _There. Right, let's do this._ She started to peel off her prison uniform, eyeing the vac suit. This was going to be uncomfortable. Ah, well, she's live with it. If this worked, she would be out of this place in just a few minutes. If not... well, she wouldn't have to worry about discomfort anymore. She struggled into the vac suit, grimacing as her large frame made the layered fabric creak alarmingly. She  really hoped this suit didn't spring a leak from the stress. Ah, if only the Empire stocked wookie uniforms...

Her worrying was cut short by the unmistakable electric buzz of a plasma cutter coming from the far side of the door. Time to go. She leaned down to her discarded prison uniform, pulling her little home-made bomb and the battery it was meant to work with out the pockets. Then she turned to the door to the airlock. Too late for second thoughts now. Time to go outside.


	6. Chapter 6

**I have just edited this chapter, changing the way it ends. I didn't want to keep dragging out the escape, so I lengthened the chapter a bit and let the escape end here.**

* * *

Dakon was pushed back into his cell on the freighter, and the door closed behind him. He stumbled, landed hard on his bad leg, and staggered over to the bed letting out a stream of cursing, before collapsing onto it.

Eris, who had been staring at the ceiling until Dakon came back in, looked down at him. "Back so soon? Well, that 'goodbye forever' of ours didn't last long, did it?" She grinned impishly down over the edge of the bed at him, and he glowered in response. "Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair as soon as the Imperials solve their little crisis. There's an escaped prisoner on the station. It kind of feel bad for whoever they are. They're going to get caught eventually, and I didn't hear anyone talking about stun settings." "Well, maybe if they can get to the hangar-" "No, there's fifty troopers out there, a heavy lock on the door to this freighter, and no other jump-capable ships in the docking bay. If they want to get out of here, they'll have to go through all those Imperials and steal this ship. Whoever they are, they'll get caught. All we can do is wait." He knew he was being grim, and silently he cursed himself for being so brutally honest. Had the Imperials broken him already?

"Well, that's not all we can do," she replied. He looked up at her, and she smiled and brought out a tiny holopad from her jumper's pocket. "One of the guards gave it to me as soon as you left." "How did you-?" "She was the one who has to sit up on the prisoner control deck and watch the prisoners. Did you know they aren't allowed to ever turn off the microphones in our cells?" He was still confused, and continued to look at her questioningly. Suddenly, she grinned. "I threatened to sing to her."

* * *

Inu clung to the outside of the space station, inching along the side. She was moving at a snail's pace, but it was as fast as she dared. She had no intention of slipping and drifting off into the blackness of space. She kept her eyes locked on the metal of the station, never even glancing out into that inky void. It was just a little further... there!

She had spotted the hangar bay's entrance. Light was streaming out through the huge, rectangular bay doors, and she actually cheered. She was right! When she had first come here, as they had escorted her off to her cell, she had noted that there were no blast doors that would cover the hangar bay's entrance in case of lockdown. Oh yes, it was sealed off from the rest of the station, but the door that led out into space was completely open, protected only by the vacuum seal.

She pulled out her makeshift bomb, and held it tightly in one hand. Then, slowly, she edged along the bulkhead towards the open hangar. Suddenly a shape emerged from the doors, and she froze. The TIE fighter slipped out into space, the scream of its engines reverberating in her helmet. The craft broke off to the left, accelarating out into space. It was followed by another, seconds later, which broke off to the right. Then a third, which dove downwards, and a fourth, a fifth... it was a full squadron, 12 TIE fighters in all. They all went off in different directions, out into space. It took her a moment, but Inu soon realized what they were doing. _They think I'm out there somewhere. That I just jumped out an airlock and drifted off into space._ She smiled in triumph. That meant they wouldn't be looking for her clinging to the station. Perfect.

When they were well and truly gone, she continued to edge toward the hangar. Every now and then, though, she glanced out towards the stars to check on the TIEs. Every time she checked her knees turned to jelly and she had to quickly focus back on the side of the station, but her occasional glances were enough to tell her just what she was hoping for: each time she looked, the fighters were further away.

Finally, she made it to the edge of the hangar entrance, and, carefully, she peered around the edge of the rectangular entrance. It was brightly lit in there, so bright in fact that she was dazzled for a moment, but after blinking a couple times, the scene inside resolved itself. There were dozens of Imperial troopers in there, most of them marines, but a few stormtroopers as well, almost all of them facing away from her, toward the blast doors that led to the rest of the station. They had set up a couple of mounted guns, and had dragged stacks of crates into place to act as cover. Smart tactics, she had to admit, if she were coming from the station.

At the center of the bay was the freighter, the same blocky rust bucket that had brought her here. It was about 70 meters long, built like a brick, and one of the ugliest spacecraft Inu had ever seen. _But oh well,_ she thought, _I won't be entering it in any contests. I just need to make a gettaway in it._ She noted with some satisfaction that the main doors were open. _Makes my job easier._

Finally, she examined the hangar door. It was pretty simple. There were four projectors, one at each of the corners of it. She knew from experience that if one of them failed, the whole containment field would go down. Perfect. She climbed carefully downward, until she was clinging to the bulkhead right next to the lower left projector. Carefully, she placed the bomb next to the black box. Then she flicked the switch on the bomb, and started clambering away as fast as she could.

* * *

A rumble echoed through the deck of the transport, and Dakon looked up nervously. Years in space had taught him that any sound out of the ordinary probably meant trouble. Slowly, he stood up, steadying himself against the bedpost.

Eris was playing around with the holopad. It had come with a couple of games, and she was trying them out one at a time. She was so engrossed that she didn't even notice the noise.

She noticed when the alarm started, though.

She covered her ears as a loud klaxon wailed through the cell. "What in the name of-?" she shouted over the noise. "Vacuum alarm. The corridors are open to space." Dakon's voice was level and emotionless, a tone born from years of discipline. "Someone must have blown open the hangar bay. On purpose, most likely. Those field projectors can really take a hit. That means that all the air just escaped out through the bay doors. There's hard vacuum just outside this cell." He limped the few steps to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening for any rumblings that might tell him what was going on outside. Eris wasn't nearly so calm.

"On the other side of the _door?!_ Why?! Why would anyone open the hangar to space?!" She was hyperventilating. To Eris Vyladian, a planetborn turned spacer, death by vacuum exposure was a constant thought in the back of her mind. The idea that someone would purposefully open a compartment to space seemed insane to her. "The field is there for a reason! Captain always said, Eris, he said, you never mess with the field! If you do, it's a slow death by suffocation! Why would anyone even _consider..._?"

"Eris!" Dakon interrupted, and she fell quiet. He listened for another moment, then said "I don't hear anything. No one's closing the ship's main doors." "Why not?" "Most likely, the pilot, who would have access to that equipment, just died of exposure. Here, help me strip down the bunks. Get the sheets off them and hand them to me." "What? Why-?" "Quickly!" Eris, usually a grinning, talkative ball of energy, decided for once not to say anything, and in stead started pulling the sheets off the bunks. Meanwhile, Dakon took the pillows and unceremoniously tore them apart, beginning to stuff the scraps of thin fabric into the cracks around the door. As they worked in silence, Eris became aware for the first time of an ominous sound.

It was the hiss of air escaping around the door.

* * *

Inu watched in grim satisfaction as the last of the marines writhed on the deck, clutching at his throat. She leaned down and picked up one of their blasters, then stepped over the rest without a second thought.

The ten or so stormtroopers were still on their feet, and beginning to overcome their initial confusion. She took cover behind a stack of crates and fired a few shots at them. One of them found their mark, and a trooper dropped to the deck with a scorch mark on his chestplate. The other two nearby dove behind cover of their own, and Inu used the window to dart across to another stack of crates, making her way towards the main doors of the transport. The rest of the stormtroopers were scattered around the hangar, and they took a few shots in her approximate direction, but their fire was uncoordinated, and the accelerated training program the Empire had put them through showed. Their aim was, quite frankly, terrible.

She fired another few shots blindly in response, and then made another mad dash across the hangar, through a hail of blaster fire. A blaster bolt clipped her left elbow, and searing pain arced through her body as the hot plasma bit through vac suit, flesh, and nerves. She heard herself scream inside the helmet, but raised the blaster in her right hand to return fire. Now she was on the ramp up to the transport. Blasts from the stormtroopers ricocheted off the bulkhead around her as she sprinted up the ramp and onto the ship. She glanced around wildly, spotted the control panel for the main hatch, and lunged toward it. Another green bolt flew past her visor, its green light blinding her momentarily. But her hand found the controls, and she slammed her palm down on the button to close the doors. The pain in her arm was staggering. But she steeled herself against it, and ran the length of the ship.

It was mostly empty space, with a long cargo bay taking up the middle, and the many small cell blocks branching off from it. She ran right past them all. Had she let them out now, all she would be doing would be letting all the air out of their cells. She had to get life support online before she could do that. A glance up, though, and she stopped in her tracks.

Hanging from the ceiling of the cargo bay was the _other_ thing the ship was carrying. They were TIE fighters. Six of them, all locked into their places by docking clamps and umbilicals. Presumably, they had been headed for some garrison or other, since it didn't look to Inu like they were at all ready to fly. But she would worry about that some other time. For now, she tore her eyes away from the fighters hanging over her head and continued her run down the length of the ship.

She reached the cockpit and found that the pilot's seat was occupied by the corpse of a female pilot. Inu hauled her out of the seat, settled into her place, and glanced out the front viewport at the hangar around her. The stormtroopers were bringing the mounted guns to bear. Not good. She hit a switch, activating the shields, but she didn't think it would do much good. A press of a button and the life support systems engaged, releasing compressed air into the corridors and cargo bay. Then she punched in a command to start heating up the engines.

BLAM! The ship shook, vibrating so violently Inu could even feel it through the vac suit. An urgent beeping drew her attention to a display of the ship. A red dot blazed on the rear hull. The ship rattled again, with more loud blasts echoing through the cargo bay behind her, and more red dots bloomed on the display. "C'mon," she muttered, teeth clenched, "c'mon, c'mon..." The troopers had brought their heavy weaponry to bear. She knew that without having to look at the monitors. But she looked despite herself and had to turn away. Light blazed from the cannon's barrel, biting into the hull and vaporizing the bulkheads.

There was a tiny "bing" from the control panel, and she reacted instantly throwing full power to the engines and roaring out of the hangar bay, blaster bolts screaming out after her through the unshielded opening of the hangar. Ahead in the distance, framed against the stars, was the squadron of TIEs that had left earlier. They banked toward her, and a blaze of green seemed to completely fill the space between the craft. Inu flinched instinctively, and there was a roar as huge portions of the front of the ship were torn apart by the storm of plasma. Alarms sounded, the ship shook hard enough to rattle her teeth, and in the midst of it all, there was a repetitive beeping, warning her that the shields were failing. And then the storm was past, and the fighters were sweeping back around for a second pass. Inu was stunned, her head seemed full of cotton wadding. But she had spent too long working ice haulers for the rebels to lose her cool now. She reached out and hit a button on the dashboard in front of her, and a high-pitched whine told her the hyperdrive was firing up. There was a crackle of comms. "Attention, Inu Bentarys. Surrender your stolen vessel. I repeat, surrender your vessel, or we will-" The voice never got to finish. At that moment the sky outside the cockpit turned suddenly to long streaks of starlight, and then to a mottled blue tunnel. The comms cut out instantly, turning to a crackle of static. "Ha!" Inu screamed triumphantly, and then immediately regretted it. She was, after all, still wearing the helmet.


	7. Interlude 1

**Author's Note: I have just gone back and changed the end of the previous chapter since I didn't want to spend any longer on the escape. Having done this, hopefully, it will now be easier for me to motivate myself. If it works, I should be posting a new chapter in the not-too-distant future.**

 **In the meantime, please enjoy this flashback.**

Dakon grimaced as a jet of coolant sprayed out of the engine of the hovercar he was working on and scrambled out from under the machine as fast as he could on his back. "Oh... nakt!" he swore, wrinkling his nose and trying to brush the liquid off his overalls before it could leak into the material. It didn't work in the slightest, and the foul-smelling fluid seeped into the cloth and stained it from blue to dark green. "Problems?" asked the tall alien waiting by the garage door. "Nah, not really. I'll be smelling like chemicals for a while, though." He picked up a cloth that he had left on the hood of the parked hovercar and started to walk toward the customer. "The repairs shouldn't cost you too much. Just one part in need of replacing, plus maybe a skin plate if you're a perfectionist. I gotta say, though, that I find the damage odd. How'd the undercarriage get burnt up this badly?"

The customer stared down at him, but Dakon couldn't tell at all what he was thinking. Four small, black eyes peered out at him from a rigid, spiny face, and features like that didn't lend themselves all that well to being expressive. "I suggest," the alien replied, his voice thickly accented and his tones clipped, "That you simple-ly fix the probe-lem and not ask too men-ny kestions. Trust me. You will get in fewer... troubles this way." Dakon's eyes flicked to the blaster hanging by the alien's side, partially concealed by his long coat, then muttered something like "Right, gotcha, quick repairs, no questions, I'll just um... yeah..." and went back over to the hovercar. He had just laid down on his back again and was about to slide under the car's chassis to get another look at the damage, when the big garage door got blown in.

A storm of rubble and dust suddenly filled the air, flying everywhere at the same moment that a deafening "Bang!" shook the whole building. Immediately Dakon rolled away from the door and behind the hovercar and tried to make himself as small as possible. Just in time, as it turned out, as a moment later the whole garage seemed to be full of blaster fire. The electric blue rings of stun blasts screamed past him, mixing with the dust to form a perfect mess of confusion and noise. All the windows of the hovercar shattered immediately, carpeting the floor in broken glass and raining it down on Dakon's head. And then, as suddenly as it began, the storm of weapons fire was over, replaced with perfect silence and the sound of gravel and plaster falling to the floor.

Dakon looked to his left, and only then did he realize that the alien customer was crouched beside him, blaster in hand. Dakon almost said something, but the alien gave him a sharp look, his four eyes looking hard and deadly, and Dakon's mouth snapped shut. And he listened. And he waited.

"Clear. Check the other garages on the street. He has to be here somewhere. Move quick- he has to know we're here now." The voice was processed, mechanical, and laced with static. A moment later, there came the stamp of heavy boots and a rattle of armor. It sounded like rather a lot of stormtroopers. The moment Dakon could no longer hear their footsteps, he turned to the alien and whispered frantically "What just happened? Are they after you? Who are you? What's going on? Why did you bring them here?"

The alien looked at him with that same inscrutable stare. Instead of answering any of Dakon's, in his mind, perfectly reasonable questions, the alien whispered back "We have to go, now. They will be back to search more thor-roughly once they have guards at every garage on the street, and that will not take them long. Get in the hovercar." "B-but the repairs! It has a punctured secondary coolant line! It'll be in danger of overheating as soon as you take it into high gear..." Dakon was confused. He didn't understand what was going on. And so he retreated into what he did know, and what he knew was hovercraft. "Besides that, it needs a tune-up on the steering, the windows are shattered, so it'll be hard to see with the wind blowing through the cabin-" "Will it still drive?" interrupted the alien. Dakon nodded mutely, and the alien grabbed him roughly by the collar and manhandled him into the car. "Wait, why do I have to go with-" "Would you pref-fer to stay and be labeled as a rebel symp-pathiser?" Dakon blinked twice, mute and with his mouth hanging open. This alien was a rebel? He supposed that he shouldn't have been this surprised. Who else would have a full platoon of stormtroopers after them? "The answer to that kestion is 'no'. Trust me, getting caught by them is not in your best interests. This is your only option now. Take it or get out." As he spoke, the alien settled himself into his own seat, brushed broken glass off the dashboard, and glanced over at Dakon. When he made no move to get out, the alien turned back to facing forward. Dakon still couldn't read his expressions, but the way his four eyes twinkled looked almost like he should have been smiling.

"Good to have you with us. Five... four... three..." The alien started up the engine. Down the street, Dakon could make out the sounds of shouts, and stormtroopers running back towards them. "Two..." The hovercar lifted off the ground, and began to inch forward. "One!" Suddenly, the craft leapt forward out through the smoking wreckage of the garage door, narrowly missing the first of the stormtroopers. The white-armored man leapt backwards and fired his blaster wildly, but the blue rings of the stun bolts bounced harmlessly off the sides of the car. The engine revved, and the car swerved off down the street, lifting further into the air. Dakon let out a whoop of triumph. Then, a moment later, he was grazed by a blue ring flying through the cabin, and his mind went blank.


	8. Chapter 7

Yban paused in pushing a large crate across the cargo hold, stood up, and stretched. The crate was empty, so that at least made it easier to shift, but it was still a waist-high durasteel box. With one last push, he lined it up as best he could with the rest of the crates, lined up end to end in the middle of the cavernous space. Yban dusted his hands off and walked over to the mountain of a woman standing next to the door to the cockpit. "'Kay, I think that'll do it for the table. We've got to seat, what, thirty, thirty-five? This setup could easily do fifty. Everyone will have to pull up their own crate for a chair, though, I'm not going to move any more boxes."

The two of them could not have looked more different standing next to one another: Inu, with her great height, olive skin, broad shoulders, and mass of wild hair, still wearing her bright yellow vac suit and holding the helmet under her arm. She looked out at the world with fierce eyes from under the curtain formed by the locks of her hair that had gotten loose. And next to her, Yban: red haired and pale faced, young, short, slight, with sloped shoulders, thin limbs and a round, puffy face that spoke of years spent in low gravity. He had a large, goofy smile on his face due to his recent and unexpected liberation, whereas Inu had already started worrying about the problems that would no doubt come next.

"I'm not sure we'll even need to seat _that_ many," she said, looking around at the other small groups of people scattered around the cargo bay. "Not all of these people seem the sort to sit down and have a long discussion about what's next. I'll count us lucky if we can get twenty to join in our little meeting."

Yban looked around and had to agree. The other freed prisoners milled about in the hold, looking exactly like the bunch of ill-tempered, antisocial criminals they were. Some clustered in the corners, in small groups far from anyone else. Some stood in the middle of the space, staring down anyone who came too close. One bright green Twi'lek was muttering quietly to himself as he wandered around aimlessly, eyes fixed on the ground. Meanwhile, a short, bearded man with a squint and dark brown skin had taken a seat at the table and was openly sharpening a combat knife he had taken from the corpse of one of the security officers.

A younger, slimmer woman slipped in from the cockpit and leaned against the wall beside the two. "Eh. You'll get 'em to talk. They gotta know it's for their own good, right? I mean, I know that much, an' I'm dense as a neutronium brick." Her eyes twinkled and a bright smile spread across her face as her gaze landed on Yban. "Oh, hello... have we met yet?" Yban shook his head, and the newcomer looked up at the large woman. "Ain't you gonna introduce me to your new friend, cap?" "First of all, I'm not the captain. We haven't decided on a command structure yet. Just Inu will do. And second... no. Introduce yourself. I've got other things to worry about. Gotta find a med station, for one thing, and patch myself up. 'Scuse me."

Inu brushed past Yban, striding towards the other end of the cargo bay, before disappearing into one of the many doorways to other parts of the ship. As she went, she began peeling off the vac suit, revealing the stained tank top she wore underneath, having presumably ditched her prison uniform during the smaller woman shrugged, then extended her hand to Yban. "Eris. Eris

The smaller woman shrugged, then extended her hand to Yban. "Eris. Eris Vyladian. In for smuggling. You?" "Oh, uh, I'm Yban. In for... well, rebel activity." "Why am I not surprised? Seems we got a ship chock full of you former rebels."

This surprised Yban. "Really? I haven't talked to many other people. Who else-"

Eris didn't let him finish his sentence. She had already begun scanning the crowd for someone, and now she shouted out "Yoo-hoo! Dakon!"

An older man, hard-featured and with flecks of premature gray in his hair, looked up from the other side of the cargo bay, and Eris beckoned him over, a broad smile on her face. He said something to the people he was talking to and then rose from the crate he had been seated on and made his way around the edge of the makeshift table towards where Yban and Eris stood by the door to the cockpit. There was a noticeable limp in his gait. "Yes, Eris?" he said, his voice deep and rich.

Eris grinned again, and grabbed a hold of Dakon's arm, holding him as if she thought he might flee at any moment. "Yban, I want you to meet Dakon. He was my cellmate, so we're pretty much best friends now. Dakon, guess what? Yban was a rebel too!"

"Still am, actually," corrected Yban. Dakon seemed to like this, as a wry smile spread across his face. "Aren't we all?" "Well, that's certainly how the Empire will see it," replied Yban, a smile spreading across his own face.

Dakon nodded, then turned to Eris. "So, are we starting soon?" She nodded, saying "Hopefully. As soon as the cap- as soon as Inu gets back, we should be able to get the meeting on the road. She said she wants to get it started fast so that no one has the chance to start trying to seize power for themselves." "Alright. I'll try to get people seated." He walked away, leaving just Yban and Eris again. "Think we should find seats too?" he asked, and she nodded, then crossed to the long makeshift table and sat down on a smaller box net to it. Yban followed suit. "So, who were you bunking with for the trip out?" she asked, glancing around the cargo bay. "Oh, um... little alien called Kirkiv. She isn't out here, 'cause she would be honorbound to fight literally everyone here, but I could introduce you later. You should probably know, though, that she'll be honorbound to fight you, too." "Oh. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. I've had my share of antisocial roommates, but I've never been locked inside a cell with them." "No no, it's not because she likes violence. She says it's a cultural thing. She has to fight if she meets someone new." "Hm. Weird. Yeah, when I was working aboard a smuggler, we visited T'doshok one time, and let me just say, warrior cultures are not something I'm a fan of. I almost died four times during our stay, and we were only docked there for a day and a half."

Yban was considering changing the subject, but at that moment the room quieted, and he looked around to find out why. It wasn't hard to figure out. Dakon had gotten up on the table a few crates down, and seemed to be trying to get the attention of the freed criminals.

"Thank you, thank you very much," Dakon shouted, his hands raised. His voice echoed in the suddenly silent cargo bay, and a satisfied smile crossed his face. "Alright. Well, that worked. Please, everyone, if you're interested in talking about our next step, come take a seat at the table. We've got plenty of space for everyone, and-"

The Twi'lek who was wandering around the bay interrupted loudly, speaking up for the first time since he came aboard. "What point is talking? We know what we're doing next! The only thing that makes sense!" Dakon looked like he had been expecting something like this. "And what's that, mister...?" "Atu'kat! And I say we need to turn ourselves back in!" There was a dangerous rumble of anger that echoed through the cargo bay at that. Over it, Dakon raised his voice again. "...And this is exactly why we need to talk this out! We've got to come up with a way of making these big decisions, so that-" Again he was interrupted, but not by words this time. A loud crash sounded through the cargo bay, making several people jump, and suddenly the short bearded man was on his feet, having just flipped over the crate he had been sitting on. "Yeh gotta be jokin'! We're not really thinkin' 'bout a plan as jelly-legged and cowardly as that piece o'crap's harebrained scheme? We just got broke out o'prison, an' this 'ere yellow-" Dakon was trying to get down from the table, but his bad leg was making it difficult for him. "Sir, please, can you-" "Doncha interrup' me! I 'ent done yet!" The man was now brandishing the combat knife, making several nearby people recoil. Most of the prisoners were still waiting to see how this would go. Old habits died hard, it seemed. Eris had gotten to her feet, but now looked unsure of what to do next. Yban had also stood up, but he had moved clear of the 'table' and 'chairs' to afford himself more space in case a fight broke out. He had begun to subtly shift into a combat stance, light on the balls of his feet, inching around behind the bearded man. Meanwhile, the angry rant continued.

"This 'ere bastard," said the bearded man, gesturing with the wicked sharp blade at the Twi'lek, who stood frozen nearby, eyes locked on his own feet, and had gone back to muttering quietly to himself, "This 'ere bastard thinks the Empire's all merciful. That they's gonna hear what we tell 'em then say to us 'oh, ye din't mean to get broke out? Well, I never! Welcome back! Tell ye what, ye can have extra dinner tonight to make up fer yer inconvenience!" He was now advancing quickly on the Twi'lek, knife in hand and fire in his eyes. Yban edged slowly closer to him, ready the second the shorter man made a move. He was dimly aware of Eris behind him also moving around, though he wasn't sure exactly what she was doing. The bearded man came up to the Twi'lek, and brandished the knife in his face, spittle flying as his voice slowly rose in pitch. "Yeh want us ta get locked back away, back ta the labour camps n' the prisons, n' the mines? You weak, stupid fucker!" He was snarling now, gripping the knife ever tighter. Yban tensed, his hands moving to a guard position in front of him. "Well I 'ent goin' back!" screamed the bearded man, and drew back the knife, ready to plunge it downward into the Twi'lek man cowering in front of him.

At that moment, Yban struck. He slipped in, catching the man's hand when it was fully drawn back, and twisting his wrist painfully. At the same time, his knee came up, aiming for the man's solar plexus. He hit low, instead smashing his knee into the man's gut and not knocking the wind out of him as Yban had hoped, but it was enough. The knife fell to the floor, and a split second later its wielder followed suit, landing hard on the metal deck.

Yban let go of the man's wrist, picked up the knife from where it had fallen, and stepped back. "Alright," he said into the once again silent cargo bay, "Let's sit down, and have a pleasant chat."


End file.
